Grave-Cargo-38

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Fascinated,	I	watched	the	map	shift,	zoom	in,	then	shift	again	in	a	dizzying
spin.	“Nat	mentioned	Lena	had	a	mystery	man.”
His	fingers	slipped	on	the	keyboard,	and	the	map	on	screen	zoomed	out	and
stilled.	Evan	 cursed.	A	 couple	 of	 clicks	 later,	 the	 rapid	 adjustments	 continued.
“She	have	a	habit	of	blowing	off	work	for	a	man?”
“Nope,”	 I	 answered,	 noting	 his	 reaction.	 “Which	 is	 why	 I’m	 having	 you
track	 her	 phone.”	 As	 the	 minutes	 ticked	 by,	 anticipatory	 tension	 had	 me
wrapping	my	arms	around	my	stomach,	hiding	my	fisted	hands.	There	were	no
beeps	or	 lights	or	anything	to	tell	me	what	was	happening.	After	what	felt	 like
forever,	I	finally	broke.	“Evan?”
His	broad	shoulders	hunched	as	he	all	but	hissed,	“Shush.”
The	tension	continued	to	ratchet	up	until	I	wanted	to	scream.
Evan’s	muttered	 “Dammit”	was	 followed	 by	 his	 fist	 slamming	 against	 the
desk	next	to	the	keyboard.	He	shoved	back	hard,	which	forced	me	back	a	step	in
tandem.	 He	 dragged	 a	 hand	 through	 his	 hair,	 leaving	 it	 mussed.	 “There’s	 no
signal,	so	I’m	assuming	it’s	not	active.”
I	shifted	to	the	side,	so	I	could	still	see	his	screen.	“If	it’s	not	active,	it	means
it’s	turned	off,	right?”
“Or	something.”	His	tone	was	dire,	his	attention	once	more	on	the	screens.
Frustrated,	I	snapped,	“So	what’s	next?”
“I’m	going	to	see	if	I	can	track	her	activity	before	the	signal	dropped.”
That	 sounded	 simple	 enough,	 but	 as	 the	minutes	 stretched	 and	 it	 appeared
Evan	wasn’t	in	a	rush	to	share,	I	demanded,	“Tell	me	what’s	going	on.”
He	shot	me	a	disgruntled	look.	“The	program	only	goes	so	fast,	Rory.	It	has
to	piece	together	 the	 information	from	the	towers	her	phone	pinged	off	of,	and
with	no	idea	how	long	her	phone’s	been	offline,	it	has	to	dig	back	hour	by	hour.”
Gritting	my	teeth,	I	waited.
Eventually,	the	sprawling	code	slowed,	and	so	did	the	dizzying	map	changes.
When	things	appeared	to	finally	settle,	he	hit	a	button	on	the	phone	and	growled,
“Kel,	need	you	to	cover	the	desk.”	He	tore	the	earpiece	from	his	ear,	tossed	it	on
the	desk,	then	pushed	back	his	chair	and	stood.	“Come	on.”
I	trotted	along	in	his	long-legged	wake	as	we	headed	to	the	back	office.	“Tell